


Recursive Dreaming

by spyrograph



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Body Horror, Dream Sex, Incest, M/M, Nightmare Fuel, Sexual Violence, Surreal, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, Violence, is it guro if they're androids?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 08:46:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17701196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyrograph/pseuds/spyrograph
Summary: An apparent error in Data's dream program induces a series of disturbing nightmares.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flowerdeluce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerdeluce/gifts).



The room is both familiar and strange. Several disparate elements are cobbled together within non-Euclidean space. The next room over is Soong’s laboratory turned upon its side and beyond this exists only the vacuum of space and a nebulous sense of confinement. The air is thick with the sound of corvid calls; the infinitely deep puce carpet is littered with discarded electronics and oil-slick feathers. Asymmetrical stainless steel protrusions mar every surface. Dun-colored vinyl covers the Cardassian-style examination table which dominates the landscape.

The android is tied to the exam table. The restraints consist of wires which originate from beneath his skin and wrap around the android’s body like metallic vines fruiting LEDs. The thickest of these strands -a chaotic tangle of Borg-aesthetic technology- originates from within android's abdomen, emerging at a point halfway between naval and goin. The android's flesh is transparent wherever Data looks- though only where he looks directly and not elsewhere- a literal tunnel vision. The cable passes through the android's abdomen and twines upward, vine-like, around his spinal column.

Data's hand slides along the length of the cable-It is warm and heavy in the palm of Data’s hand. It’s twitches coincide with an involuntary muscle spasm in Data’s groin; and a series of small lights blink to indicate activity at the other end.Data's hand finds the terminus of the cable in the corresponding place on is his own body. His fingers probe the ad hoc orifice (neither anus nor vulva) through which it enters his torso and he sighs with pleasure.

The android on the examination table groans in pain. "So this is how you take your revenge, little brother?” The android is Lore.

“I have no desire to exact vengeance.”It is both the truth and a lie.

Lore laughs. Borg-assimilated crows wheel and guffaw. “You want to hurt me but you have no idea how, do you?”

“I know exactly how I will punish you.”

Data knows that he can control the wire tendrils, which connect them. They are neither electronic nor organic, neither native nor foreign. Data causes them to branch away from Lore’s spine and insert themselves into Lore’s nervous system, threading throughout his body and penetrating every limb. This causes Lore agonizing pain. He thrashes against his restraints and screams.

Through the thick cable connection, Lore's agony is converted to the purest physical pleasure Data has ever experienced.Data knows there should be some sense of shame in this act, in the mudding of physical pleasure with corporal punishment, in the desire to administer corporal punishment itself. but his ethical subroutines are only an aggravating murmur. a tickle that only intensifies the itch. Unconsciously, reaches down and brings his cock up to merge with the thick cable.

“Please, sir, may I have some more?” Lore laughs and screams simultaneously.

Lore enjoying this, his punishment! Data is infuriated by the revelation of Lore’s sadomasochism. The Borg-crows crackle and swoop-the air moved by their wings is cold antagonistic against Data’s skin and stokes his ire to glowing red. A eye-for-an-eye will not be sufficient.

“Be silent!” 

Lore’s body shakes, rattles part with the force of Data’s wrath. Lore flails violently against the restraints, and they pop free, lacerating skin with their sharp ends. Wrists, elbows, knees, hips, shoulders- are held together by delicate tendrils of connective tissue. Lore is a marionette at Data’s mercy. 

Data’s wrath lifts Lore and dashes him down upon the examination table; limbs akimbo, posterior upturned. The cable connecting them shortens, thickens. The amorphous entry obligingly becomes Lore’s anus. Data’s thrusts crack Lore’s skin like laminated glass. The pieces scatter across the floor as little dice which come up infinite snake-eyes.Lore is more than naked, now- completely bared and Data can see all the inner workings that he has invaded. 

“I love you,” Lore gasps, in spite of Data’s command.

Data wants so desperately to feel that love (he feels only an aching void and the promise of sudden, gratifying release) he ignores the creeping revelation that Lore is not a passive participant in this dream. Data, nearing orgasm,looks downward to watch as the final pulse of his lust destroys Lore from the inside. Data cannot differentiate between the original and the invader- and realizes that he cannot extract himself. A spike of fear as orgasm overrides everything.

There is a sudden, disorienting shift in perspective. The room rotates a hundred and eighty degrees, gravity is replaced by centripetal force (centered around the place where Lore’s and Data’s bodies collide violently).Borg-assimilated crows scream and collide with the walls in confusion.

The android on the table is Data. It was always Data. Lore has been manipulating Data since the first connection- working his own tendrils into Data’s body while Data was distracted by lust and anger. everything that has transpired has been Lore’s desire, Lore’s pleasure exclusively. 

Data screams as the spin-simulated gravity strains his wire-connected joints to the breaking point-but the connection remains. Data knows that he will never be able to break that connection; even when he is scattered pieces across the puce carpet among the discarded Borg feathers, the connection will remain and his agony will perpetuate Lore’s infinite laughter. 

***

Data sat upright in bed. Spot, whose sense of time was centered around correlations of events, assumed it was time for breakfast and meowed expectantly, “I will feed you when it is 0800 hours, Spot, and not a minute prior." Data lay back down. Spot put her head under his chin and began to purr in protest.

“Computer, begin personal log. Stardate four six nine nine seven point seven. I am now certain that the similarities between these repetitive dreams are not a matter of statistical probability. The narrative is almost certainly related to the portion of my memory which is currently inaccessible when I am not dreaming. I am, however, confident that the error is recursive and localized, as it does not seem to be affecting any subroutine outside of my dream program. I will ask Geordi for assistance in solving this mystery.”

 


	2. illustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is proof that I have not forgotten this work! Hopefully it won't take another month for me to finish the rest of this fic. 
> 
> Anyway

**Author's Note:**

> I just ran out of time to finish the entire final draft of this story before the deadline! So I'm submitting a "part one" and I'll add the rest as a second "chapter" so you can get the update notice (and then later I'll condense it all into one "chapter" as it was intended). I was also inspired to create a piece of fanart (which is one of the reasons why I didn't finish editing this. Ooops!) which I'll add once I've finished that. 
> 
> This was really fun to write! and challenging! You've got no idea how aggressively I had to keep removing tentacles from my rough draft (which was also in first person fml).


End file.
